


The Reign of the Second Batman

by alicecrow6



Series: A Family's Love [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cassandra Cain Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Batman, Damian Wayne-centric, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is a Talon, F/F, F/M, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Damian Wayne, Protective Damian Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicecrow6/pseuds/alicecrow6
Summary: Gotham was becoming unmanageable, Batman just wasn't enough anymore. This was a fact that his father refused to acknowledge, this was a fact that ended up killing him. Damian, however, was far more aware and willing to accept this than his father. He knew now that one man could not keep a city together without help. He knew that he needed assistance if he wanted to hold his father’s legacy together.Damian Wayne starts collecting a family that would have been his father's in another world.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Series: A Family's Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796221
Comments: 90
Kudos: 352





	1. Chapter 1

Gotham was becoming unmanageable, Batman just wasn't enough anymore. This was a fact that his father refused to acknowledge, this was a fact that ended up killing him. Damian, however, was far more aware and willing to accept this than his father. He knew now that one man could not keep a city together without help. He knew that he needed assistance if he wanted to hold his father’s legacy together.

His father was stubborn, he had refused Damian’s help and in the end, it had killed him. So here Damian was, 11 years old and completely alone. Pennyworth had died months ago, far before his father.

He supposed he could retire back to his mother and rejoin the League of Assassins, but he doubted that everything would be fine and dandy if he even attempted such a thing. Besides, a part of him couldn't bear to leave Batman's city to ruin.

No matter how much of a fool Damian thought his father was, he couldn't deny that he had been the only one to show him genuine affection, no matter how awkward he had been while doing so.

Damian supposed he could put on a modified version of the cowl and get right to work, but he highly doubted he would survive for long. Though his father had been extremely disadvantaged in the way that he refused to kill. He knew that he could not continue his father’s legacy if he took a life. He could not taint the cowl with murder, not with the one thing his father had hated beyond measure. 

Damian was a realist. He knew that he would only be waging a fool's war if he continued on with the one-man army his father had. 

He needed help.

This left a rather large question of who to choose however. 

He sat at his father’s computer and felt small as the chair engulfed his thin frame. His eyes frantically looking on the screen as it switched from picture to picture.

Then, suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a man hidden in shadows. He was a Talon, a tool of the court. He was extremely skilled, the greatest gymnast in the world, and completely unpredictable in his fighting style. His father had gone against this particular talon time and time again. He was able to not only almost win against his father, but also escape successfully.

He was perfect. 

Damian’s father had once told him that the Talons were mindless beasts that only followed their master’s order’s but here was proof that there was more. By definition, a talon should not be able to be creative, yet this talon’s very fighting style depended on creativity. He was a contradiction, a not so mindless beast.

His father was always going on about giving villains second chances and such, so why didn't he honor his father in picking up this side of his ideology too?

He could practically feel his father’s pride if he succeeded in such an endeavor.

Damian stood up determinedly, he had a talon to capture.

The cowl felt heavy. It was a weight he didn't think he would ever be used to. It was modified to fit him better, but still, it felt foreign. Like it would never truly fit him.

He ignored the thought and moved out of the cave. His father had died a fortnight ago and no one knew except for him and the dead.

The villains thought Batman was still alive and the civilians still thought Bruce Wayne was alive. Even the hero community was unaware of anything out of the ordinary. He knew that he would need to fix that soon, but every time he even thought of doing so his stomach felt like it would sink down into the floor.

He spent the first few hours taking out crime from afar, not allowing anyone to see him. He kept an eye out for his future partner but was mostly focused on not accidentally killing anyone.

Thankfully none of the villains decided to show up and make him reveal himself.

Just as he was about to go home, failure heavy in his heart, he heard an almost silent drop to his left.

“You're not Batman,” a voice said softly. Damian turned around and saw the subject of his new fixation.

“I am his son,” Damian said, his chin raised slightly as though daring the Talon to deny him the right to the cowl.

“Has the Batman finally fallen then?” the Talon tilted his head in question. It was a creepy imitation of a bird that made Damian more sympathetic for the man rather than scared.

“Yes,” Damian gritted out. He thought about lying, but he was trying to make this man his new partner and most took offense to lies.

“I see,” the Talon said stiltedly. He stood still, robotically. Damian wondered why he was there.

“I wish to free you,” Damian said suddenly, before cursing himself. God, why was he so stupid. His father would no doubt know what to do in this situation but unfortunately, he wasn't there.

“I am a Talon,” The man said.

“You don't have to be” Damian tried to reason.

“I am a Talon,” the man repeated.

“Do you actually want to be one?” Damian asked, curious. Had they brainwashed him to such an extent that he genuinely did not have a will of his own?

“I am a Talon” the man repeated again. His words said emotionlessly.

“You're repeating yourself,” Damian said, his frustration leaking.

“I belong to the court” finally a different set of words had been said but Damian was still rather frustrated at how difficult the Talon was being.

“You basically just said the same thing in different words” the Talon tilted his head again. Damian wondered if the Talon had something he was trying to convey but just didn't have the right words to say.

“Alright, how about this. Let us fight, if win then you will come with me, if you win then you get to kill me,” Damian knew that what he was about to do was stupid, but he also knew that this was the only way to get through to the man. He had dealt with enough brainwashed soldiers to know that at the end of the day, they respected power if nothing else.

“I could kill you right now,” the Talon tells Damian. Damian shrugs his shoulders.

“You could,” Damian agreed. The Talon takes a moment to study Damian. He stalks around the new Batman and truly considers the words the young boy spoke.

“Very well, I accept,” Damian smirks up at the man. The man’s face stays completely blank, like it had the entire conversation, but he does twitch slightly which Damian takes as a win.


	2. Chapter 2

The Talon immediately attacks. Damian spares a quick moment to think ‘fuck’ before jumping onto the defensive.

Damian ducks from a swipe and jumps a few steps away to get some space. He barely has any time to pull out his sword before the Talon is on him again.

He needed to be quick, he can't let this fight drag out. In a battle of endurance, the Talon will surely win.

Their blades clash and the Talon easily weaves between the strikes of Damian’s sword.

The Talon lands what could have been a fatal blow on Damian’s chest if he hadn't shifted back on the balls of his feet in the last second.

He retaliates with a furious slash and knows that he should really start on that plan.

There were three ways to defeat a Talon as his father had documented.

Option one: knock out

The problem with this method was that Damian needed to be skilled enough to do so, unfortunately, he knew that the Talon was stronger the Damian at this moment in time and would have no trouble disregarding his attempt if he decided on such a course of action.

Damian flipped over his opponent, trying to gain some desperately needed space.

Option two: cold

He would need to get the Talon into an environment where it was cold enough to freeze him up. The problem with this method was that he needed to outlast the Talon in the cold environment.

While he had full confidence in his abilities, he wasn't about to stake his life on a maybe.

Damian thrust his blade forward, the Talon moving away with a complicated twist of his body that should have been impossible.

And finally, option three: knock off the protective wear on the Talon’s face and then light the place up.

Talon’s had been enhanced in that they could see in the dark, the logical assumption would be that a bright light should be able to temporarily blind them. Then he could knock them out.

Damian grunted in pain as the Talon stabbed him in the gut. He didn't allow himself to be distracted though. He ripped off the mask covering the Talon’s face. 

Blue eyes blinked down at him in confusion. Damian, however, didn't spend a second on the Talon’s face and pressed the hand still holding the mask onto the bat symbol on his chest.

It immediately lit up like a beacon and the Talon jumped away, fingers clawing at his eyes in an attempt to make the pain lessen.

Damian limped towards the man weakly, and with the last of his strength, struck him on the back of his neck, knocking him out.

The man fell forward like a bag of potatoes. 

Damian hit the Bat on his chest again to turn the light back off.

Damian groaned and sat down beside him. He started to clean and wrap his wounds, knowing he would have to visit Dr. Thompkins soon just in case these were more serious than he thought they were.

While he was there he would also need to inform her that father was dead.

He sighed under his breath at the thought. No doubt she would think that he needed comfort or some other such nonsense.

“So, you won,” the Talon says softly. His face is bare and Damian knows with utmost certainty that the man before him is beautiful. His skill is a pasty white and his veins a black that contrasts harshly. Yet that does nothing to distract from his attractiveness. Damian’s rather jealous actually. 

“Only because you weren't taking things seriously. Still, I'll take what I can get,” Damian knows he would not have won if the Talon had come at him from the start with the intent to kill. Curiously, however, the man had not. Instead, it had seemed like he was teasing him.

The two lull into a silence.

“What do you want from me?” the Talon finally asked. Damian turned to look at him, hissing in pain as his body rebelled from the movement. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed how much worse Gotham has gotten?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. The Talon tilted his head. Damian took another deep breath, he really hated asking for assistance.

“I need help managing it,” Damian grimaced. 

“So I will be your soldier?” the older man asked. Damian immediately shook his head no. Making him a soldier is what his mother or grandfather would have done. They would have made the Talon nothing more than a tool.

“If you wish, you could go back to the court or even run away to live a civilian life. I’ll even give you the funds necessary if you wish to take that option,” giving money to a killer so they stopped killing made a lot of sense considering the alternative was to just throw them into a cell they would eventually escape. 

“Why even fight me if you don't wish to take control of me?” the Talon asked.

“I just needed you to listen. Don't get me wrong, I need help, but, I’d never force someone to do my bidding. My father would be disappointed in me if I did so,” and wasn't that the truth. His father would probably start lecturing him about free will and ‘being a decent human being’. It sounded like poppycock to Damian's ears but his father's disappointment stung more then his mother's blade. 

“I will think about it”

The Talon stands up and leaves, slipping away into the darkness. 

Damian mean while wonders how the fuck he’s gonna get home.

Withholding a whimper of pain, he decides that it’ll probably be with a lot of spite and determination.

Like most things he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I remember reading somewhere about the eye weakness thing but I don't actually know if it's canon. Sorry if my fight scene is all over the place. 
> 
> This is not a Damian/Dick story, I was just trying to describe how Dick looked and it turned out with Damian complimenting Dick in his head and I didn't want to take it out because I've totally done the same in a none sexual capacity and figured it was okay.
> 
> Also, I forgot to clarify last chapter but Damian at this point in time is wearing a smaller version of the Bat suit, not the one with a trench coat.
> 
> Hope you're still enjoying the story and have a nice day.


	3. Chapter 3

Damian withheld a hiss as Dr. Thompkins poked and prodded him.

“So, where’s Bruce?” she finally asked after she had deemed him okay by vigilant standards. Damian sat still and wondered if he should try to gently break the news to her.

“Dead,” Damian decided he had much better things to do then softly tell a grown woman that his father was dead. She was a big girl, she could handle it.

Thompkins stilled. Her mouth opened slightly before closing with an audible click.

“So you’ll be taking up his mantle?” she asked, the picture of professionalism. This was why Damian appreciated her.

“Yes, I ask that you please be available for me for any future life-threatening injuries,” at this point Damian looked pointedly at Thompkins. This was most likely the time where she would try to get him to talk to a professional and not continue on the path that killed his father.

“I will not make myself available for you but should I be free I will gladly help. However, I ask that in return you consider a therapist and perhaps even reconsider being Batman. That kind of pressure on a young child is not healthy, especially since you will be completely alone,” what do you know, Damian was right. Her tone was kind and her eyes worried but Damian wasn't about to give up being Batman because of the concerns of an outsider.

“I will think upon your concerns but I highly doubt that my answer will change,” Damian says firmly. Thompkins nods and turns away, leaving the manor, and Damian in it, without another word.

Damian gets off the table and starts to walk towards his room. He knows he should think about how he’s going to keep Bruce’s death from the public eye but he has no idea how he’s supposed to take care of Wayne Enterprises at the same time as being Batman. The only reason no one has been concerned with his father’s disappearance was because it wasn't uncommon for his father to just not show up for work.

He enters his room and beelines it towards his desk. He searches through the drawers before he finds it.

There, in his hands, is the solution to his most pressing concern.

It’s a burner phone with the numbers of all the justice league. His father had given it to him in case of emergencies and if this wasn't an emergency he didn't know what was.

He scrolled through the contacts before reaching the martian’s number.

A solution unfolds in his head. 

All he needs to do is get the martian to pretend to be his father for a small period of time. Get him to put Damian in charge and then go on a long vacation where he can die mysteriously in a very public place.

The plan, unfortunately, falls to pieces when he remembers that no one would ever take him seriously should he ever become CEO. The rest of the plan was great, it was just one small detail that was tripping him up.

He wonders if now's the time to give up, if now he should finally admit defeat. But Damian was no quitter. He would just need to find someone to be his representative until he was of age.

They would need to be 16 years or older, preferably older. They would need to be able to keep their mouths shut and eyes closed for when Damian used Wayne funds and research to help with Batman’s crusade.

He banged his head onto the desk and closed his eyes. His forehead was slightly cooled against the dark wood but that just meant that the rest of his face was uncomfortably warm by comparison.

How the hell was he supposed to find someone that he could “trust”. It was already a stretch when he decided to bring in the Talon and now he was adding a whole new player to the board!

How the fuck was he supposed to know if they were trustworthy?

Okay, stop, re-think, re-strategize. Damian released a sigh through his nose.

What did he know for sure? 

He needed help on the front lines and he needed help in the boardroom.

Could he perhaps get Talon to be his trusted CEO? Damian huffed a laugh.

Fuck no. The man was far too emotionally stunted at the moment to be let out in polite company let alone the upper class of Gotham. Perhaps after a year at least of not being a puppet of a crime organization but even that was a stretch. Besides, he needed someone now.

Alright, he needed someone that he could trust, someone that was smart, and someone that knew when the fuck to shut up. Preferably, someone, he didn't completely hate.

He lifted his head from the desk and started to spin aimlessly on his chair. After a few seconds of spinning one way, he stopped his chair went in the opposite direction. 

His head was starting to hurt.

Wait! Someone that admired Batman!

He didn't need to trust the person, he just needed to trust that they trusted Batman.

He got out of the chair a little too quickly and immediately regretted it. God, he should be sleeping.

He started to walk down to the cave. By the time he reached it he was vibrating with the need to start his search.

Maybe he should get someone of the younger variety? So that they could more easily be controlled? Yes, that would be better.

The computer’s database held a profile of every citizen of Gotham. If he set the computer to only pick up people that graduated college, where younger than 30, and held an above-average IQ then he should definitely be getting a good starting point of individuals to look through.

He set the computer to do just that and started to go upstairs, he could look over the results tomorrow.

He banged the door of his room open and cursed how big this godforsaken house was. 

He carefully removed his clothes and put on what his father had called “pajamas”. It was a childish word that he had once detested but now only brought a smile to his face.

How many things he had once hated only to now punch him in the gut with their memories of a deadman he had thought to be pathetic.

He gently lowered himself to the bed and hoped that tomorrow would be better, that tomorrow would show him that not all had been for naught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am of the firm opinion that Tim totally would have finished College without all the bat shenanigans. Whether that be out of genuine want, parental pressure or lack of vigilantly pressure.


	4. Chapter 4

Damian was this close to just destroying the computer.

He knew he should have expected the amount of names he was given but for some reason, it hadn't really computed in his head that there were that many young smart people in Gotham. He wondered briefly if someone would consider that as in insult to the people of Gotham before deciding that he didn't give a shit.

He closed his eyes and wondered if he could just pick randomly. Surely it would be alright? Surely it wouldn't come back to bite him in the behind? 

When he had first seen the number of names he had to go through he decided he needed to add another requirement other than under 30, finished college, and was smart. He decided to impute into the computer that anyone that had ever gone to prison be eliminated from the list.

It had eliminated a good chunk of the names seeing as this was Gotham and almost everyone in this godforsaken city had gone to prison at one point.

Unfortunately, there were still a lot of names. 

The idea of picking randomly was looking more and more appetizing. Still, he persevered and by the end of the day, he had gone through half of the options he had picked out 30 people that would make good choices. 

By the time he was about to call it a night and suit up a name caught his attention.

Timothy Drake

Damian knew him. He knew the boy on the screen. His face was tugging at a long-forgotten memory.

As he read up on all the information on the boy he came to the conclusion that he must have met the boy at one of his father’s parties.

But why did his face scream important? Perhaps he had impressed him at one point? Or maybe his father had said something about him? The frustration was palpable by that point. So much so that Titus immediately bounced up to him. He absentmindedly stroked the dog.

Maybe he should just meet up with him? Surely that would get his mind back on track.

Yes, that’s what he would do.

He waved Titus away and moved up from his seat to get ready for petrol. He knew Thompkins had told him that he needed a few weeks until he should get back into fighting but he wasn't about to let something like pain stop him. In the league, he had been expected to work through any injury without pause and his father had only cemented that belief with his own work ethic.

He had already wasted a day away. 

Just as the cowl had been placed onto his head an alarm started to blare. Red lights flashed wildly as Damian cursed. Titus' loud barking was not helping but Damian appreciated the gesture.

He turned off the alarm and felt his chest constrict as he saw the cause of the blaring in the first place.

Poison Ivy was destroying a city block for some fucking reason.

He didn't want to out himself immediately, he had wanted a few weeks at least to get prepared and ready.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Gotham, the cruel mistress that she was, decided otherwise.

Just as he was about to leave however, his sword caught his attention. Batman didn't use a sword, but Batman also used every advantage he had. No one would ever think him to be batman with his size so what did it matter if he brought his sword with him? But some part of him felt like he would be disappointing his father if he brought it with him, like he isn't living up to the image of Batman as much as he should be. But that was stupid and his father would probably be more disappointed if he ended up dead because he ignored an advantage. 

He took the blade and strapped it to his back, the cape covering it. It peeked out from behind him, easy to reach but it did not restrain him or the cape.

He got into the car and sped towards the action. By the time he reached his destination, the vines were far too overgrown. They would need a good sheering, just like a certain someone else.

He stealthily made his way towards Ivy, her eyes closed in concentration.

He reached into his belt and threw a couple of batarangs, following it closely by throwing himself at her.

She blocked the blades with a rising vine, the same vine quickly reaching for him. He slashed through it and barely dodged another vine from behind. 

For a few minutes, all that happened was Damian slashing through plants as Ivy continued to send them after him. 

His breathing slowed. His sword slashed faster, harder. The repetitive movements lulling him into a state of mind that he had long forgotten about in the year he had spent by his father’s side.

Thankfully he had kept up with his training.

However, the plants soon stopped.

“Who are you?” Poison Ivy asked in confusion.

“Batman,” Damian answered, slightly out of breath.

“No, you're not. Last I checked Batman isn't a fetus,” derision obvious in her voice.

“Batman was my father, I have taken up the mantle and so in his name, I will battle you” Damian ignored the slight against him.

“Wait, hold up, you're telling me Bats had a child? The same man that half of Gotham is convinced is a supernatural being?” Ivy’s eyebrows rows. 

“Who else would I be talking about woman” Damian let a little of his temper slip on the word woman but quickly got it back under control.

“Okay, you know what? Where’s your daddy little boy?” Ivy asked, fully done with this conversation and the little shit that started it.

“On business,” the answer was short and chipped.

“That code for dead?” Ivy asked.

“He’s not dead,” Damian growled.

“Then why the hell have you taken over the ‘mantle of Batman’” she used air quotes on the mantle of batman part and Damian really just wanted to stab her.

“He’s in space,”

“Space” Ivy asked unbelievingly.

“Space is where you draw the line? You're literally able to control plants!” Damian said in a tone that showed just how stupid he thought she was being.

“Yeah, but why the fuck would Batman be up in space?” Ivy answered back in that same tone.

“He’s dealing with aliens,” Damian shrugged.

“Aliens” her voice was once again disbelieving.

“Superman is an alien” Damian tried to reason.

“I know, I know. I just don't think that he would be in space,” she held out her hands in a placating manner.

“Well, where else would he be?” Damian asked.

“In a grave?” Ivy answered in atone that made it seem like that was the obvious answer.

“He’s not dead!”

“Yeesh, alright your daddy’s alive,”

“Whatever, let's just get this over with,” Damian growled.

And so the battle commenced.

Using a lot of patience and a few tricks he was able to get an injury on Ivy. She had a slash from her ear to her collarbone. Something that was sure to scar. She hissed in anger and immediately upped the difficulty, showing Damian that she had been going easy on him.

A vine curled around his ankle and threw him into a wall. He sat up, grimacing in pain at a sharp pain. His poor ribs.

He breathed deeply but then immediately regretted it. He threw himself at her again but another vine wrapped tightly around the hand holding his sword. It compressed around his wrist and broke it. He cried out in pain but she didn't stop. She threw him against a wall again.

His head banged against it harshly and he really hoped he didn't get a concussion. Still, he hobbled up.

“Just die already!”

“Fuck you” Damian spit back.

He threw a Batarang at her with his left hand that she blocked at the last second. Damian allowed a smirk to grace his face before it exploded near her face, knocking her back a few feet. Using this advantage he used the smokescreen the explosion offered and sneaked behind her.

He attempted to knock her out but she saw it coming and punched him in the nose. He grabbed her hand and broke her wrist so that they were matching.

Her hair was slightly singed and her wrist was cradled protective to her chest but to Damian, it was the most satisfying sight he had ever seen. The rage-filled expression on her face only made it more beautiful in his mind. He knew that as soon as he was able to he would sit down and draw this memory.

Maybe he was being petty but he really didn't give a shit right now.

He let out a battle cry and threw himself at her. Her eyes widened in surprise as he tackled her to the ground, his left hand pulling at her hair relentlessly.

Vines wrapped around him in an attempt to pull him off her but he refused to let go of her hair so in her quite a few of her red locks were ruthlessly pulled out.

She screamed in pain and outrage as she tenderly touched what was left of her hair.

Damian was restrained to the ground, vines holding him still but he laughed loudly at her pain.

Her rage turned to him. Damian started to cut at the vines holding him with a knife he pulled out of his utility belt but before he could escape more vines started to cover him, they squeezed the air out of him.

He struggled relentlessly but these vines had thorns and with every struggle he just caused more pain for himself.

He wondered how his father felt when he died. How did Alfred feel? Did they accept it or fight against it till the last second? He already knew the answer though. He knew that they powered through it till the very end because that was the type of people they were. He knew they looked death in the face and fought despite it.

He supposed that made him more pathetic when he stopped struggling, accepting his fate, his death. He wondered if his father would be disappointed at how on his second night out he had been killed.

Alfred would understand and be more disappointed that he had gone out at all.

He supposed he would find out soon.

Damian didn't close his eyes, he looked Ivy straight in the eyes and smiled wolfishly at her.

Her image a balm to his soul, though he supposed that he would have felt better if he had caused some more permanent damage but beggars can't be choosers.

Damian’s vision started to blur.

Suddenly, a knife soon embedded itself into her gut from behind. She fell forward in pain and the shadow behind her brought the knife to her neck, getting ready to kill her.

“Don't kill her” Damian choked out.

The shadow paused for a second before knocking her out instead.

The vines loosened and Damian struggled to get out of their grip.

The shadow stepped over Ivy’s unconscious body and helped him out of the thorns.

“Talon?” Damian asked when he saw the familiar uniform.

“Hello Batman,” the man tilted his head slightly and Damian wondered what he thought of his failure. Did he think that Damian was a failure? That he was dragging down the Batman name?

“You helped me? Why did you help me?” Damian needed to know. Desperation crawled up his throat and his eyes started to sting.

“It would be bad protocol to not save my future employer,” the Talon said simply.

Damian paused for a second before releasing a laugh that hurt more than it should have but that only made him laugh harder. The laugh jostled his injuries and made him want to cry but most of all it made him want to crawl up beside his father’s dead body and die right next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was necessary for three reasons
> 
> One, we needed a way to reintroduce Dick
> 
> Two, we needed a way to introduce Tim
> 
> Three, we needed to show that Damian wasn't invincible, that he would struggle a lot. At first, I went back and forth on whether I should get Damian to beat Ivy as a way to get the criminals to take him seriously but then I decided that that would be too easy. I would personally like to see Damian try to deal with the growing crime rate when people find out Batman isn't around anymore.
> 
> I would want to see him learn to become better at being Batman, at being his version of Batman.


	5. Chapter 5

The Talon picked him up bridal style in order to not jostled his injuries any further. He laid him down a few buildings away, and then by Damian’s request, went to drop off Ivy at the police station.

By the time he came back Damian had already called Thompkins and was now just trying his best not to pass out.

He threw up twice already and was dealing with a massive headache

“Where to?” the Talon asked, his arrival silent.

“The car is parked outside of the building” Damian crooked. The Talon did not comment on the puddle of vomit beside him.

The Talon picked Damian up once more and gently placed him inside of the car. When he turned to leave however Damian spoke up.

“Don't leave,” he ordered, then softer “please”

The Talon stilled, his fingers twitching before he came to a decision.

The Talon entered from the other side and Damian drove them back to the cave. He almost ran over a few innocent samaritans but Damian thought he did okay in general.

When he reached the cave he opened the door of the car and hobbled up to the medical table in the cave.

Talon looked around in what Damian translated to be wonder. He seemed especially enchanted with Titus. The dog ran up to Damian first before he sent him towards the Talon after he had first seen him eye the dog. 

The Talon started to gently pet the great dane, his face still as expressionless as when Damian had first met him but he liked to think that there was a spark there that hadn't been there before.

Dr. Thompkins entered the cave not even a few minutes later, appearing in a rushed hurry. She seemed out of breath and concerned before seeing that Damian was not gravely injured like she had feared.

She straightened herself and in the next breath became the picture of professionalism. Damian nodded in greeting and the Talon stiffened. He seemed like he wanted to attack but didn't because of how unconcerned Damian was of her appearance.

The next hour or so was spent with Thompkins treating Damian’s injuries, Talon laser focusing on all her movements in case she tried anything, and Damian silently dealing with overwhelming pain was now no longer blocked by adrenalin.

“I’ve set a splint for your wrist, restitched your stab wound, taken out the thorns and wrapped your injuries, and iced your ribs. I recommend you take some pain medication”

“three weeks at least” she stressed the least part of her sentence. “more if possible”

“And you” here she pointed at Talon. The poor man looked like a deer in headlights at the sudden attention.

“You're going to wake the brat up every few hours so that we can make sure that he is, in fact, able to wake up,” Talon nodded, his hands held up. Damian muttered traitor under his breath but neither the Doctor nor Assassin paid him any mind.

“Look, I appreciate all your help but I can't take a break for three weeks! I’ve just gotten started. My father would be able to fight through his injuries and I should be able to as well,”

“Your father, bless his heart, was an idiot Damian. He’s also dead in case you haven't noticed,” Damian stiffened and Thompkins looked like she wanted to apologize but Damian glared at her when she tried to open her mouth.

“I’ll do two weeks at most,” Damian hissed. Thompkins stood up immediately, looking like she was about to protest before she thought better of it.

“Very well, but do not blame me when you find yourself in a casket right next to your father,” she said coldly. She quickly left the room, leaving a fuming Damian and a confused Talon behind.

“The nerve of that woman!” Damian shouted when he was sure she had left the cave. The Talon hummed in reply, not entirely sure how to respond.

Damian took a few seconds to calm himself before turning all his attention to the Talon.

“Do you have a name that I could call you?” Damian asked. The Talon tilted his head.

“Talon,” he said as though it was obvious.

“That’s a title, not a name,” Damian responded. He needed to be gentle here, he couldn't pressure him in case he decided to disappear into the night without a word.

“What’s your name then?” the Talon asked. Damian felt like hitting himself. How could he have forgotten that the man did not know his name?

“Ah, yes of course” Damian pulled back his cowl and looked up at the Talon for the first time without something to hide his face.

“My name is Damian Wayne, what’s your name?” Damian put up his hand for a handshake. The Talon stilled, he looked intently at the hand that Damian had offered him before looking up again. He cleared his throat before slowly reaching for Damian’s hand.

“My name was Richard Grayson, but you can call be Dick,” his voice broke slightly but he continued to finish his sentence leaving Damian feeling slightly proud of the man.

“It’s very nice to meet you Dick,” Damian said with a smile. The man- Dick smiled back hesitantly. It was an awkward smile that fit strangely on his mouth but left Damian feeling extraordinarily pleased with himself. It was almost charming, Damian thought to himself happily.

His father’s phone decided to interrupt the moment, however. Damian stumbled over to the other side of the cave where he had left the phone. He fumbled with it for a few seconds before finally opening it.

“Hello?” Damian asked in his father’s voice. The familiar tone was easy to mimic after so many months he had taken it on.

“Mr. Wayne? I’m sorry for disturbing you but we were wondering when you’d be coming back to work?” His father’s secretary, a woman that he had been quite fond of in a distant sort of way.

“I’ll be back next week at the latest,” Damian knew that if he tried to extend the time limit people would start getting suspicious.

“Very well Mr. Wayne. Shall I set up an appointment with the board for when you come back?” the secretary asks.

“If it wouldn't be a bother” Damian calculator how much Brucie’s death is going to fuck everything up over there.

“Not at all Mr. Wayne!” the woman reassures. Damian quickly says his goodbyes before hanging up and tiredly closing his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Dick asks. His sudden presence makes Damian want to jump in alarm but he’s able to stop himself from doing such a humiliating action.

“Do you mind helping me up to my room Dick?” The man’s eyes practically light up when Damian says his name, though his face stays as frozen as ever. Damian still counts it as a win.


	6. Chapter 6

Dick had spent the night routinely waking Damian up. Damian didn't know if the man had even slept but he was sure that was a conversation they could get into later.

By the time morning had struck Damian was sure that he was dying. His entire body hurt and ached. His head was also being a little bitch and refusing to shut up with the pounding. Damian sighed in despair. He hobbled up from his bed right to the door before almost falling over. 

Thankfully, Dick was able to catch him before he went diving towards the floor. His savior, Damian thought as he saw the light catch Dick’s hair and make it look like a fucking halo. What in the frickity frack?

“Where do you want to go, sir?” Dick asked. Damian grimaced at being called sir. 

“Please call me Damian,” Damian watched as Dick seemed to try to compute what Damian was asking. He seemed worried that it was a test.

“Very well. So where should I take you Damian?” he finally asked. Damian smiled widely at the poor man. Dick’s face did a strange type of twitch before going back to normal.

“The kitchen if you will,” Damian was carried down to the kitchen where he was sat down on the counter. Damian shifted slightly in an attempt to make himself more comfortable. Dick stood still in front of him as both of them just kind of stared at each other. A few minutes passed with neither making a move. Damian twitch and Dick twitched back. Damian blinked and Dick blinked back. Damian blinked again, this time slower, Dick repeated the action. 

Finally, Damian had enough. He cleared his throat and tried to say something.

“So… what would you like for breakfast?” he asked. Dick blinked, this time without copying Damian’s actions.  
He shrugged.

“Did you have something that you used to like to eat?” Damian asked.

“Talon’s do not eat,” Dick answered simply. His right shoulder seemed to tense for a moment and Damian wondered if the man had wanted to shrug again but had refrained for whatever reason.

“I’m sorry what?” Damian asked in confusion.

“We are hooked up to a feeding tube if we should ever require nutrients,” the uncaring tone left Damian feeling more horrified than if the man had said it angrily or something.

“I see,” Damian said finally after a moment's pause.

They both looked at each other as another silence filled the kitchen again.

“Very well, I suppose we must try all types of food to see which is your favorite then,” Damian said decisively. He nodded to himself and tried to think of all the recipes he knew by memory. It was a whopping three.

“There’s no need, I can function for a month without nourishment” Dick tried to assure Damian, not seeing how he was simply making Damian more determined to feed him.

“Perhaps you can but that does not mean that you should have to” Damian said crossly as he tried to decide which food item he should introduce Dick to first. Something with a lot of nutritional value.

Damian slowly lowered himself to the floor as Dick watched closely to make sure that he did not accidentally hurt himself.

The next 30 minutes was spent with Dick panicking internally as he watched his new small charge attempt to cook something while Damian looked on dispassionately at the carnage he was creating in his attempt for perfection. There was a lot of fire, cursing, and even a fair bit of strange chanting. By the end of it, Dick was presented with a weird type of goop by a very proud Damian.

He hesitantly took a spoonful of the thing and wondered if this was a strange new type of torture. In the end however he only needed to look at Damian’s bright eyes to convince himself to eat the thing.

The spoon entered his mouth and he hesitantly chewed. It was the first thing to entire his mouth in years but Dick didn't hate it. That wasn't to say he loved it. It had the strangest texture and its flavor could be perfectly described as bland but Dick was holding back tears nonetheless. Was it because it was the first thing he had ever eaten since his parent's murder? Was it because it represented a new era he was entering? Or was it because of the person that had made it for him?

Dick ended up eating the entire plate as Damian waited anxiously for his answer. Dick smiled, something that he used to do a lot. Something that was beaten out of him. It stretched strangely at his lips and took continuous effort to keep up but it was worth it for the way the small child’s face lit up in response. It caused a warm feeling to appear in his chest and made it’s home there.

They spent the next hour or so in the kitchen introducing Dick to different types of fruit or whatever was already made in the fridge.

He seemed to like the more sugary concoctions Damian noted to himself.

As Dick was eating, Damian decided it was time to outline his plan to the man.

“As you know, Gotham is in a perpetual state of disaster. It is constantly on the verge of collapse and those supervillains are not making anything better. That was why Batman was created, to be a foil to the bad. To be a nightmare in the minds of criminals and an image of safety for the good,” Damian said passionately to Dick.

“I wish for you to be a fellow vigilante, helping me fight for Gotham’s betterment. I wish for you to be my partner in this endeavor of cleaning up the streets and saving the few innocent still in the godforsaken city,” at this point Dick had stopped eating and was just looking at Damian. He tilted his head and seemed to think something over.

“I had already made my decision when I had saved you. I knew what that would most likely entail and I helped you knowing that,” Dick finally said.

Damian opened his mouth before closing it with a click. He smiled unsurely at the man before gathering himself up again.

“So, what do you want your superhero name to be?” Damian asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. Dick, on the other hand, seemed to freeze completely. His face twisting strangely as he stared vacantly past Damian’s head.

“Robin,” he finally said, his voice strangled. His breath hitched slightly and Damian knew that no matter how childish he thought the name to be he would not say a word of disagreement. He hesitantly brought a hand to Dick’s arm and squeezed. He tried to make the motion as comforting as he could but he had no idea if he had succeeded.

Dick was woken from the memories that name caused by a warm touch. It wasn't harmful, it was just, there. It was too loose to be an attempt to restrain him. What was it for? 

Dick looked up and saw the small hand was attached to his new charge. His charge had an almost gentle look on his face. The harsh lines on his too young face softened with understanding.

The hand on his arm didn't move and an illogical part of Dick didn't want it to. But the hand also made him restless. It itched at him. But it was so warm? Burning him? So constricting? So loose? He didn't know. He didn't know if he wanted it to stay or leave.

His mother and father used to give him hugs, was this like that? It didn't feel like it but sometimes his father would put his hand on his shoulder. Damian’s hand wasn't on his shoulder. 

It was very warm though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for next chapter, in comes Timmy!


	7. Chapter 7

Damian looked into the screen and wondered if Dick would mind Damian bringing an unknown person onto the premises. No, he couldn't do that to Dick, not yet when his situation was still so delicate. He stood up slowly and tried not to notice how Dick immediately tensed.

“I will be leaving to meet up with an important person of interest,” Damian told the man. Dick narrowed his eyes slightly before nodding he went to stand up but Damian stopped him.

“There’s no need for that. I will only be gone for a few hours and you’d better spend your time getting reacquainted with the world via TV,” Damian told him. Dick raised an eyebrow.

“I would be achieving the same by accompanying you,” Dick told him.

“It’s too soon, you need to get comfortable” Damian tried to reason.

“I fail to see how my comfort should play as any type of factor in the decision making” Dick’s face twitched slightly and his fingers fidgeted before stilling.

“The fact you can't see why only proves my point” Damian was slightly frustrated but he still kept his voice clear of any anger.

“Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that you are defenseless,” Dick pointed out. Damian gritted his teeth at the reminder.

“As are you in the sunlight,” Damian batted back. Dick stilled.

“I have been trained to resist the pain that comes from light. I will not fail you,” he said coldly.

“I don't think you would, but I don't want you to be in pain in the first place,” Damian said softly, his anger fading quickly at that declaration. Dick, on the other hand, seemed to stare intently at him, the coldness in his eyes warming.

“Please,” Damian said softly. Dick jerked back, he seemed almost confused. Dick lowered his head but nodded his agreeance.

“Thank you Dick,” Damian told the man sincerely. Dick’s head snapped back up at the sound of his name. He smiled that strange smile of his again and Damian felt himself grin in return.

He left the manor an hour later and made his way towards the coffee shop where Timothy Drake spent most of his time. The boy had finished college at the impressive age of 16 yet after graduating had done nothing of note. He seemed to be in a sort of funk. He didn't have friends, a romantic partner, or even a job. The boy was completely isolated. This isn't helped by the fact that his parents were constantly abroad.

Neglected at best, Damian thought.

He saw the back of Drake’s head from the window and didn't hesitate to entire the shop. The quiet atmosphere of the cafe left Damian feeling like he had entered a different dimension, especially when compared to the loud, windy, cold outside. 

Drake was sitting next to an outlet, his head bowed as he distractedly took a sip from his drink. Damian didn't bother asking for permission before sitting down in front of him.

The shop only had two other customers at the moment and one person was manning the front.

Drake looked up at the noise of the chair screeching. Damian smiled his best Brucie smile.

Drake smiled back nervously. This of course only made Damian more suspicious.

Damian had no clue what his brain was trying to tell him but he knew that Drake was Important.

“Timothy Drake right?” Damian asked, his voice taking on a more relaxed note. Drake’s eyes were still sharp and alert but he relaxed slightly. Or at least he seemed like he was relaxing. Damian approved of his paranoia but was more concerned with why he felt the need to be paranoid.

“And your Damian Wayne,” Drake said with a nod. Damian’s lips stretched a little more with the force of his smile.

“Yup. I hope you don't mind me sitting here?” Drake’s eye did a twitch at the question.

“Of course, though I had no idea that you frequented these types of places,” Drake replied. Damian bit his tongue so that he didn't accidentally say something unwise.

“I normally don't but a good friend recommended it,”

“Congratulations on getting a friend! I know that when we last spoke you had confided in me about your troubles with the more social part of school. I’m happy that you moved past that,” Dear god what had he told Drake? Suddenly a memory emerged from the confines of his mind.

It was of Damian sobbing on Drake’s shoulder as he slurred his words about how his father hated him and how he was an utter disappointment because he couldn’t even make a few stupid friends.

Present Damian went red. He brought his head to his hands and groaned. He could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“I’m going to be honest with you Timothy, I don't remember much of what happened the night we met. Could you enlighten me?” his voice took a more hopeful lit by the end of his sentence. Drake chuckled slightly but nodded his head in agreement.

“I’m surprised you even remember me from how utterly out of it you were,” Drake said with an uncertain smile.

“How did I even get drunk?” Damian asked, hung up on the fact that he had somehow consumed alcohol even though he had promised himself he would never do such a thing.

“Some Dickwad thought it would be funny to drug you,” Drake said with a shrug. Damian just stared at him.

“I’m sorry what?” He asked.

“You really don't know?” Drake asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I wouldn't be asking if I did,” Damian told him, still very hung up on the drugged part.

“Uh, well some asshole paid a waiter to drug you. I overheard them and tried to stop it from happening but you had already drank the contaminated drink and at that point, I could only get you out of that situation and tell your dad,” Drake said embarrassedly. He brought up his hand and scratched the back of his head.

“Did- Did they get in trouble at least?” Damian asked, slightly stunned by this turn of events.

“Oh yeah, your dad sued everyone involved” Drake shrugged again. He seemed rather embarrassed.

“I see,” Damian did not see.

The two sat in silence and Damian wondered how he hadn't noticed being drugged.

“So, what did I tell you?” Damian finally asked.

“Well, you mostly cried,” Drake’s face was sheepish. Damian had no idea what he had to be embarrassed about here.

“I’m terribly sorry” Drake- no Timothy (Damian had cried on the poor teen, the least he deserved was to be called by his first name) shrugged. Shrugging seemed to be a habit of his.

“Don't worry about it, It’s not like you could control getting drugged because of some sick fuck” Timothy smiled awkwardly. This entire conversation was awkward to be honest.

Another long silence went by.

“I would like you to be CEO of Wayne industries until I am of age” Damian blurted out.

“Oh my god, is Batman okay?” Timothy blurted out not a second afterward.

They both stared at each other as they realized what they had said and what the other had also said.


	8. Chapter 8

A few minutes passed.

“So… CEO?” Timothy asks hesitantly. Damian gives him a look*

“I think the more important question is how long you’ve known and who you've told,” he says coldly. Timothy winces before getting angry. 

“I didn’t tell anyone” Timothy sounded offended.

“How long have you known,” Damian repeated the part of the question that Timothy had yet to answer.

“Look-” Timothy tries to change the direction of the conversation but Damian was having none of that.

“How long have you known?” he repeats, this time slower, every word said firmly. Timothy sighs, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Since I was 11 but you confirmed it when you were drugged out of your mind” Timothy finally answers. The words sound like they were pulled out unwillingly from the very depths of his soul. Damian considers this. 

“How did you find out?” Damian saw Timothy blush. Damian raised an eyebrow judgmentally at him.

“I knew that someone had to be funding Batman. That meant that either someone was paying for Batman’s things or Batman himself was rich. Your father had the closest match in physical features among the upper class. I also found out about an anonymous donation to one of the places that Batman accidentally destroyed while battling the Joker. I hacked into the database and sourced the money back to Wayne Enterprises,” Damian was impressed, until Timothy continued.

“Plus I used to take pictures of Batman when I was younger, he accidentally flashed his face when making out with Catwoman,” Timothy says embarrassedly. He brings his hand up to his chin and scratches, his lips pressed together.

“You were taking pictures of him when he was making out with Catwoman?” Damian asked incredulously. Timothy flushed at the question.

“Don't make it sound like I’m a creep! I thought they were going to fight, not borderline have sex with their clothes on!” Timothy screeches. Damian shushes him. He looks around and sees that besides a few people giving them weird looks no one really seems to care.

“Come on, we’re not having this conversion here,” he tells Timothy. He nods at Damian and starts to collect his belongings. Damian waits patiently until he’s finally ready to leave. They both exit the cafe shop and grab a cab.

The car ride to Wayne manor is quiet as they both refuse to look at each other.

When they finally enter through the front door Timothy is knocked down. Above his prone body was Dick. He held a small dagger against his neck.

“Whoa wait a minute,” Timothy says in alarm. His face is the picture of panic. Damian knows he should put a stop to this immediately but he still spends a second to commit that face to memory. It’s too glorious not to.

“Dick, please let our guest up” Damian finally asks when he feels like he has truly memorized this moment.

Timothy glares at him, knowing that he didn't need to let that go on for as long as it did. Damian smiles innocently.

Dick lets go of Timothy and slowly gets up from where he was crouched on the teen.

“Who,” Dick says the word distrustfully. Damian places a hand on Dick’s arm in an attempt to calm him but quickly takes it away when he sees how Dick tenses at the contact.

Stupid, so stupid!

“This is Timothy Drake and he’s going to help me on my mission to help Gotham,” Dick tilts his head before turning to look at Timothy in a more appraising manner.

“He will need extensive training,” Dick tells Damian as he takes a step forward and grabs Timothy’s bicep. Timothy yelps at the sudden movement. He tries to pull his arm back but Dick holds steady.

“Flappy,” Dick frowns at the arm as though it had insulted him. He turns back to look at Damian again.

“You sure?” Dick looks skeptical. Damian smiled at him reassuringly.

“Don't worry Dick, he won't be going out to fight crime with us,” Timothy makes an offended noise. Damian and Dick ignore it.

“What will he be doing then?” Dick asks, his head tilted again.

“He will be taking care of Wayne Enterprises until I am old enough to take over,” Damian answers. 

“Do I get any choice in this?” Timothy tries to interrupt.

“Isn't he too young?” Dick questions. Timothy narrows his eyes at the blatant disregard.

“He’s going to turn 17 in a few months. Gotham law would only require him to be 16 or older,” Damian had researched this as soon as he learned that his father had left Wayne Enterprises to him in his will.

“Wait a second, I haven't agreed to this,” Timothy tries to cut in. Dick throws him an apologetic look but continues on with the conversation.

“How will you get him to be your representative?” he asks curiously.

“Since Wayne Enterprises belongs to me I get to choose the CEO,” Damian smiles deviously.

“Enough!” Timothy shouts. Both Dick and Damian look at him.

“There’s no need to yell,” Dick tells him.

“You don't get to say that when you’ve been ignoring me until I started yelling,” Timothy says sharply.

“I apologize Timothy, of course you get a say in this,” Damian lowers his head in a show of remorse. Timothy sighs through his nose in exasperation.

“Ignoring the fact that I was almost killed by someone who I have no information on, I have conditions,” he tells them both.

“Conditions?” Dick asks.

“For if I’m to accept your proposition,” Timothy elaborates.

“Very well, what are they?” Damian had expected this. It would be something like money, a favor for the future, beating someone up, or the like.

“I want you to train me,” Timothy tells them. This draws Damian up short.

“Train you?” He asks in bafflement.

“I’m going to become a vigilante too,” he says firmly, just daring Damian to deny him.

That, however, is the last thing on Damian’s mind. 

Timothy’s smart. His IQ showed it but his detective skills proved it. He was also sneaky. After all, Batman hadn’t noticed him following him around. With enough training, Damian was sure that he could be a very valuable ally.

“Hm, very well, but I get to choose your vigilante name,” Damian says

“Okay?” Timothy asks more than answers. Damian smiles sharply in reply.

“So we will be training him,” Dick looks at Damian in question.

“Dick, meet your new teammate, Sunbird,” Damian smiles brightly. It takes a few seconds, but both Timothy and Dick smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim's costume and name are based on the mrs gould's sunbird. It's beautiful.
> 
> Also, two of my tags are Cassandra Cain is Black Bat and Stephanie Brown is Spoiler but I'm gonna take that out next chapter because I have ideas.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter


	9. Chapter 9

After Damian successfully procured a promise from Timothy of his return the next day, Damian sat down at his father’s desk in the cave. The night was sure to fall soon and he needed to find a way to convince Dick to go out and fight crime in his stead.

He could have given Dick a markless suit and sent him on his way until they were able to properly collect an ensemble that Dick would approve of for his mantle of Robin.

It would have not only been something that Dick could accept with minimal difficulty but it also wouldn't have made Damian so unsure. To be Batman meant that you had to put the well being of others above yourself. It shouldn't matter how much he wanted to hoard his father’s cowl to himself, it shouldn't matter how desperately he wanted to claw his fingers into the cape and tear it to shreds so that no one else could wear it.

Damian turned to look at the former Talon and wondered how he was going to word this.

“Dick, I need you to do something for me,” was that too strong?

“Only if you feel comfortable with it of course” there, that was gentler.

“What do you need?” Dick’s eyes were sharp and suspicious.

“I need you to go out as Batman for tonight. It will only be for one night so that I can get your Robin suit ready,” Damian quickly tried to reassure. Dick stayed silent.

Damian resisted the urge to shuffle his feet or even do something like apologize. What did he even have to apologize for? Asking a question?

“Very well,” Dick says with a nod.

“Good, we will need to adjust the padding on the suit to make you look more broad-shouldered then you already are. Father was far more-” Damian stopped suddenly when he saw Dick’s face make a small twitch. His blank expression came back not even a millisecond later but Damian had still seen it. Something had affected Dick enough that he had lost control of his face. It didn't matter how brief it had been, it had still happened.

Damian tried to rethink what he could have said that would make Dick react in such a way. Was it Batman? Did he feel like he didn't have a choice and so was only going along with it because it had been what he had been trained to do? Was it- oh.

“Thank you Dick,” Damian looked straight into Dick’s eyes and tried so very hard to convey his sincerity. 

Dick blinked, then blinked again before his lips tugged upward slightly. Damian held in a cheer at correctly guessing what had been the root of the problem.

They spent the rest of the little time they had left before petrol to make adjustments to one of Bruce’s old suits. 

Damian’s hands had shaken slightly as he defiled one of his late father’s uniform.

These were more than just simple costumes. They were his father’s true identity. They were what had held his true face.

So to be changing any aspect of it? It felt like his father was dying all over again.

Instead of letting any of those feelings get in the way of the mission he simply pushed past them. His hands still shook but what did it matter as long as they still got the job done?

An armored hand planted on his shoulder. It was firm and steady. Solid in all the ways Damian needed it to be. It distracted him from his thoughts and brought him back to a time where his father had proudly put his hand on his shoulder to show approval.

Damian closed his eyes for a second and pretended for a moment that the one holding his shoulder wasn't the undead former assassin, but rather the one person he needed to be beside him at that moment.

He shakes himself out of it and shoots Dick a small smile.

Neither of them mentions it, but Damian’s hands stop shaking.

Dick leaves the cave with his father’s car, Damian remote controlling it from the comforts of the cave.

The next hour Damian spends directing Dick’s every action. They work well together, Damian thinks happily as Dick executes the move he had asked him to do perfectly. 

That night everyone sees “regular” Batman.

When Dick returns back to the Cave Damian greets him with a grin and thank you. Dick halts again but unfreezes quicker this time.

They spend their 5 am in the kitchen as Damian cooks his special goop in celebration for Dick’s first night out as a vigilante.

Dick eats it with good grace and doesn't mention the burning cupboards behind them. Damian barely looks away from Dick as he puts the fire out with the fire extinguisher he procured from… somewhere.

They make their way towards Damian’s room as Damian starts planning Dick’s own room. Once they enter the bedroom Damian directs Dick to the bed as he shuffles through his drawers. When he finally finds the phone a breath of relief 

Damian quickly shoots a text to the martian manhunter before throwing the phone back onto the desk and taking a brisk walk to the bed.

-Come to Gotham, Wayne Manor tomorrow-

It’s direct and to the point. Hopefully, the alien’s able to follow basic instructions.

He lowers himself onto the bed.

“Do you need to sleep?” Damian asks curiously as he tries to adjust himself so that he won't irritate his injuries.

“No, I don't sleep. The closest thing would be my handlers submerging me in ice until I was needed again,” Dick sits atop the covers awkwardly and watches Damian toss and turn.

“Tomorrow the martian manhunter will be coming over so we can discuss how to safely kill off my father in a way that won't relate to superheroes. After that we can work on yours and Timothy’s new uniforms,” Damian tells in a no-nonsense tone. Dick’s lips twitch upward and Damian takes that as his agreement.

“What color do you want Robin to be?” Dick tilts his head in thought.

“Green, yellow and red,” Dick says decisively.

Damian gives him a look.


End file.
